


Second Chances (or What Happens in Las Noches Doesn't Stay in Las Noches)

by FeelingFredly



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, GinIchi Day 2019, Post-Quincy War, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelingFredly/pseuds/FeelingFredly
Summary: Death is a constant, even for Shinigami.  Once you're gone... you're gone.  Or at least that's what everyone says. Urahara Kisuke and Ichimaru Gin have something to say about that.  Ichigo's just along for the ride, but he won't say he minds.





	Second Chances (or What Happens in Las Noches Doesn't Stay in Las Noches)

**Author's Note:**

> I blame... well they know who they are. I hope they understand the depths of their sins. ;)
> 
> I started this 4 hours before GinIchi Day was technically over, so it's a minor miracle that it even exists. Enjoy!

“Okay, Nel,” Ichigo called out across the rubble, “I give up. You are today’s hide and go seek champion!”

A high-pitched giggle echoed through the crumbling walls of Las Noches and Nel suddenly appeared from one of the side rooms that he was certain he’d searched earlier.

“Urahara-san was right. Your reiatsu sensing is getting much better, but you forgot something Itsygo!”

Suddenly his arms were full of little girl and Ichigo couldn’t help but smile at her unrestrained enthusiasm. 

“And just what did I forget?” He rolled the two of them and placed Nel on her feet carefully, but she just gave him a sly look.

“Why should I tell you? If I tell then I won’t be able to beat you at hide and seek, and then you won’t buy me candy at Urahara-san’s shop.”

Ichigo shook his head. “You’re worse than the twins ever were, Nel,” he laughed. Karin and Yuzu had taken to Nel better than any of the Shinigami—ex-Espada wasn’t a title that endeared her to many—but even they weren’t as blatant about manipulating him as the green-haired girl.

“If you tell me then I promise that I will buy you two candies when we get back to the shōten later. Deal?”

She was clearly torn between the idea of two candies now or reliably being able to beat him in the future, but greed won out. “I used this!”

Nel ran back into the side room and came back out with an arm-full of fabric. “It’s one of Aizen’s reiatsu-hiding cloaks. I think they left this one because it didn’t work as well as the others, or maybe they just made an extra in case something happened to the others. But, when I hid under it, you couldn’t sense me, and that means… I won! I won!” She danced around him in a circle. “Can we go get my candy now?”

Ichigo held the cloak gingerly in his hands and gave her a distracted smile. “Sure thing, Nel. If you give him this, I bet Urahara-san would give you all the candy you could want.”

Her squeal of joy made the remaining towers of Las Noches tremble.

***

Kisuke seemed just as surprised as Ichigo had expected. “And this is where you found it Nel-chan?”

The green head nodded at the blond as she pointed to a pile of things in the corner of the room. “Yup. This is where it was. Over there in the corner with the other stuff Gin left behind.”

_Ichimaru_. Ichigo felt his stomach tighten. He’d had more than one night out end up with him carrying a drunken Matsumoto back to her quarters after being regaled by tales of Ichimaru Gin. Bastard. Traitor. Best friend. Martyr. Who could tell? Rangiku couldn’t make up her mind, and if she couldn’t, how could he?

The problem was that he couldn’t say that he didn’t understand the guy. Hell, he took on the entirety of Seireitei to save Rukia and he barely knew her. What would he have done if someone had broken the soul of one of the twins?

Yeah, understanding was easy. Forgiveness? Acceptance? Those were still beyond him. That’s the problem with martyrs. Lack of closure.

“Kurosaki-kun?” Kisuke was on his knees next to the pile, sorting through the detritus as if it were treasure. “Would you come over here, please?”

He joined the others just as Kisuke pulled out a length of gold chain that ended in a red stone. 

“Yuck,” Nel said, pushing away. “That stinks of Barragan. Why would you want that?”

Kisuke had a faraway look in his eye and Ichigo braced himself. Nothing good ever came from that look.

“It does have the energy of Barragan on it, but I can also sense Ichimaru Gin.” He looked up at Ichigo and met his gaze squarely. “The _living_ energy of Ichimaru Gin. Trapped. Inside it. Like a fly in amber.”

***

The problem with mad scientists was that they never thought that too much was too much. And this? This was too much.

Ichigo could barely look at the gigai on the table.

It had taken Kisuke a week to figure out the trick of the stone. Somehow, someone—probably Ichimaru himself—had convinced Barragan to use his Senescencia on the stone after a part of Ichimaru’s spirit energy had been embedded in it. The time dilation had effectively frozen it there, complete and unharmed, unable to be altered until the field was dispersed.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea, Kisuke,” Ichigo argued, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I mean, even if you do manage to transfer the energy successfully into that gigai what is that going to do? He’s not going to thank you for trapping him on the human plane, and it isn’t like he’s going to be exactly welcome in Seireitei even if the process you’re working on can allow the rest of his spirit energy to ultimately be brought back to him.” He frowned so hard he could _feel_ the lines in his face. “Matsumoto and Kira are still angry and grieving. This is just going to make it all worse for them.”

Urahara nodded and hummed quietly. “I understand your hesitation, Kurosaki-kun, but tell me… if you had fallen in the attempt to kill Aizen, don’t you think that your family would have wanted you back, even in a limited form? Matsumoto-fukutaicho and Izuru-fukutaicho are grieving, yes, but wouldn’t it speed their healing to be able to see Ichimaru-san, to ask him questions, perhaps even to vent some of their anger at him? And there are still so many questions about what happened while Aizen was operating in Seireitei…

Ichigo knew it was hopeless then. If there were questions, nothing would stop Urahara in his search for answers.

“At least warn them….” he waved his hands helplessly, “don’t just spring this on them after the fact.”

But Urahara was already moving to the pale form on the table and before the last syllable was out of his mouth, it—he—moved.

Ichimaru Gin. Alive again. Sort of.

The sheet covered form sat up slowly, the long pale legs shifting carefully as if they were trying to rediscover themselves, which, honestly, they probably were. There was only a fraction of Ichimaru powering the thing. _At full strength_ he would have been weakened with the reiatsu dampener built into the thing, but now a wet kitten could probably knock him over.

“Aaah, Urahara Kisuke-san,” the voice was just like he remembered, though, drawl and all. “I hafta say I’m glad to be seein’ you and not Kurotsuchi-taicho. Figured you’d be more likely to show up in Las Noches, anyway.”

Urahara bowed his head a fraction, eyes shadowed by the edge of his hat. “You seem much less surprised than I expected, Ichimaru-san.”

Pale shoulders rolled experimentally and Ichigo couldn’t help but notice just how thin Ichimaru’s frame was. He looked almost delicate. What a joke that was.

“I knew I was gambling taking on Aizen, and I was always looking for ways to lengthen my odds. This was a failsafe that I never thought would come into play, though. I’m assuming since you’ve gone to the trouble to make this gigai for me you’re not looking to just kill me.”

Ichigo snorted, and Ichimaru turned slowly and looked him up and down. “Shoulda known you’d be here, too.”

“Yeah, well this time I’m not the creepy one. You’ve got that in the bag—an extra-dead Shinigami with a side of traitor.”

“And you’re a don’t-know-you’re-dead human/hollow/Quincy/Shinigami hybrid. Quite the pair we make.”

The grin on Ichimaru’s face was, for once, an actual smile rather than a sneer and Ichigo couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well, whatever we are, we’re going to be stuck together a lot over the next few weeks, so you better get used to the idea.”

Ichimaru paused and looked back and forth between the two men in front of him. “Aizen?”

“Muken.”

An almost invisible shudder moved through him, and he sucked in a balancing breath.

“Matsumoto-fukutaicho?” Ichigo saw the fear in his eyes and put him out of his misery.

“Alive. Pissed at you. Grieving. But alive.”

The knobby shoulders straightened a little, and for once there was a lightness about the man. Shinigami. Gigai. Whatever he was.

“Thank you.” He looked right at Ichigo and nodded once. “I mean it. I know ya and you’ll say it was a group effort and all that, but regardless of who else gets thanks… thank you.”

Ichigo didn’t know what to say to that, but Urahara saved the day.

“So,” he said finally, “there are some questions that I have…”

Ichimaru shook his head and smirked. “I am not surprised.” He spread graceful fingers, palms up, and opened his arms. “I am at your service.”

***

“If you eat them all then you won’t have any for the rest of the week, and I’m not making another trip into town to buy you more just because you can’t control yourself.”

Gin—_when had he become Gin?_—bit into another dried persimmon and grinned. “You say that, but I know better.”

It was true. Ichigo would probably make the trip just to get the silver-haired bastard to stop sighing and drooping around like a wilted lily. He’d been trained too well.

Yuzu had a lot to answer for.

“You’d like to think that. Hanging around with Aizen for so long has skewed your view of the people around you. We’re not just here for you to manipulate, you know.”

Gin nibbled at the dried fruit in his hand and gave him a look. “You think I’m manipulating you?”

“Of course you are,” Ichigo groused as he put the rest of the groceries away. Gin wasn’t a bad roommate—he was neat at least—but he was terrible at modern chores. “It comes as naturally to you as breathing. The thing is that now you’re not so sneaky about it. I don’t mind it so much if you’re obvious about it. That way I can still decide if I’m going to go along with it, or if I’m going to force you into another evening playing board games with Jinta, Ururu, and Yuzu.”

Gin opened a cupboard door and tucked the rest of the bag of dried persimmons away for the moment.

“I don’t try to, you know.”

Ichigo shrugged. “It’s okay. Habits are hard to break. Just keep it in mind for next time.”

Gin perched his chin, the sharp point digging in, on Ichigo’s shoulder. “I will definitely do that.”

Ichigo felt a flush heat his face and he ducked away. “You looking forward to the trip to Seireitei this weekend?”

The smile faded from Gin’s face and Ichigo almost felt bad. The transition back into the Shinigami world had gone about as well as Ichigo had predicted, but it was improving, if slowly.

“I don’t know. Rangiku invited me to dinner, but Kira….” his voice faded a little, “I don’t know if he’s ever going to come around.”

Izuru had taken the whole situation badly, and Ichigo wasn’t exactly sure why. The betrayal was one thing, but it was almost like there was something else going on as well. Matsumoto had been so overwhelmed at Gin’s first appearance that she’d almost collapsed, but Toshiro had calmed her down and she’d been strangely okay after that. She seemed truly happy to have Gin back in her life, even if she was rewriting his position there every day.

“_Ever_ is a long time, and Izuru’s just figuring things out. Just do what you have to do and he’ll either come around or he won’t. It’s the price of what you did.”

Gin nodded. “I know. It was a price I knew I was going to pay, I just never really thought about what it would be like on this side of things. After. You know.”

Ichigo knew.

“Well, before that we need to gather up the laundry and head over to the house. Yuzu is trying a new dish. Something with sweet potato, so watch yourself.”

Gin made a face. “I hate sweet potatoes.”

“I know you do, but if you make Yuzu upset, I promise…” Ichigo raised a finger and Gin waved the warning off.

“I would never. Your father would skin me alive and Karin would dance around wearing the skin like a cape. Your family scares me more than Aizen ever did.”

Ichigo shook his head. “You’re smarter than you look.”

Gin smirked and started loading his laundry bag. “You’re not.”

Ichigo felt a tightness in his chest as he watched Gin cheerfully sorting whites and colors, the rightness of his being there making him wonder at how his life had come to this.

He threw a dish towel at the other man who caught it mid-air with a flourish.

“I put up with you, so I guess I’m not.” 

He was alright with that. 


End file.
